


i met you and it was golden

by sleepingsaturn



Series: Between the Lines [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, in which i take canon and gay it tf up, when they first meet, yang pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 04:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20901293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepingsaturn/pseuds/sleepingsaturn
Summary: There’s a beautiful girl sitting against the wall next to a freshly lit candelabra, legs pulled up to one side, ankles crossed. Her nose is buried in a book like she’s been waiting all day for this very moment. She’s completely alone and owning it, blending with the shadows, but also enhancing them. Shade has never seemed so alluring, Yang thinks.





	i met you and it was golden

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve wanted to write this scene from Yang’s pov and make it real gay since the first time I watched it. My plan is to make a series that I refer to as Between the Lines; snapshots and moments and HEARTBEATS between BY throughout the volumes. I’ll move forward chronologically and update pretty randomly. This is acting as my relief from writing my long fic, which if you enjoy this in any capacity, I hope you look forward to it! 
> 
> Obviously some of the dialogue is pulled straight from the show, I tried to keep it to a minimum as much as I could. I trust you to know which ones they are and that I’m not trying to take credit for things I didn’t write.

Alright, first night at Beacon Academy. So exciting! Her friends from Signal are here, Ruby is here, which makes Yang so proud, and there is so much more to learn. Not to mention all the new moves she’ll be able to show off with ember celica. 

Her dad and Uncle Qrow used to tell these wild stories from back when they went to Beacon and had their own team of four. They learned to master their weapons and become strong huntsmen, traveling the world, and experiencing truly unbelievable stuff. Her and Ruby would listen, wide eyed, about the time they slew a hundred death stalkers, the fights where they weren’t sure they would make it out alive, and when they were able to save whole villages from complete destruction. Some of the stories were a little… grim, you could say. They didn’t think to hold back on the details for the sake of two young girls once they were a few drinks in. And for Qrow, is was always more than a few.

Ruby always asked about Summer; how many monsters did she slay? What was her weapon like? And sometimes she would ask simpler, yet more complicated questions; what kind of person was she? Did she have a lot of friends? Did she love me? Yang didn’t have to remember a lot to know how much Summer loved Ruby, she is her mini-me after all, hooded cape and everything. 

Yang became the one to make sure dinner was eaten before 8 p.m., and that Ruby brushed her teeth for more than ten seconds. It was hard for their dad to really step up for a few years, and by the time he did they were already taking care of themselves. He just didn’t know how to step into the ‘mom’ role, and neither did Yang but… she did little things. Like fill the tub and wash Ruby’s hair, cut the skin off of apples because yes, she was that picky, and trim Ruby’s hair constantly, because she couldn’t stand it when it grew past her chin. 

Yang spots her friends from Signal across the room with their sleeping bags lined up in a row waiting for Yang to join them. 

Instead she scans the room for her little sister, finding Ruby and her sleeping bag an island in a sea of first years. She’s laying on her stomach, scribbling something on top of her pillow, tongue poking out.

Yang strides to where Ruby is and throws down her sleeping bag and pillow, plopping down on top of it. “It’s like a big slumber party!” 

Yang appreciates that it’s hard for socially awkward Ruby, er, or maybe socially uninterested would be the better way to phrase it… Either way, she gets that it’s hard for her to make friends and want to make friends. It was always the two of them growing up, each other’s best friend. It was all they needed and all Ruby still seems to want. Besides curating all the coolest weapons in Remnant, of course. 

What Yang sees in her little sis and what Ruby sees in herself aren’t exactly the same. She’s likable, always easy to be around. Yang thinks it’s because she isn’t trying to impress anyone or anything like that. She’d rather be the lone hero than try and relate to people. Yang never has trouble making new connections though, so she can’t help the nagging mom side of her that worries Ruby will look back and regret not having her own friends. 

Sometimes she just needs a push! 

“Look,” Yang says, sincerely, “it’s only been one day. Trust me, you’ve got friends all around you, you just haven’t met them yet.”

As if on cue, someone nearby strikes a match, Ruby sits up. 

There’s a beautiful girl sitting against the wall next to a freshly lit candelabra, legs pulled up to one side, ankles crossed. Her nose is buried in a book like she’s been waiting all day for this very moment. She’s completely alone and owning it, blending with the shadows, but also enhancing them. Shade has never seemed so alluring, Yang thinks. 

Yang is a sunny day, not a cloud in sight, causing skin to tan, hair to blonde, and freckles to bloom. She’s a dry heat, setting fires where she goes. Her mouth parched, painfully, and across the grassy field is a solitary tree, tall and mighty, branches extending far and wide, leaves thriving in the light of day, and this girl is the shade beneath it, refreshingly cool, allusive… intoxicating. 

She’s stunning? It’s not a question actually, it’s a firm fact. Her features are soft, but elegant, highlighted in the flickering candlelight, a bewitching contrast of light and dark. Hair falls to her waist like an ink spill, a black satin bow carefully tied on the crown of her head. It’s cute. Her pajamas are a lot more sophisticated than her own tank and soft cotton shorts. She wears black silk, long sleeve top with white trim and a tie cinching her waist, complete with a matching skirt that shows off her thighs. 

And then there are her eyes…

Yang is yellow like daylight, her dad’s sunny little dragon, but this dark haired mystery girl has these gorgeous golden eyes that puts Yang’s own golden locks to shame. She’s secure enough in herself to think that, not that it’s a competition or anything, but if it was, Yang wouldn’t mind losing to her. Wouldn’t mind losing her heart, her mind, her future. She wants those golden eyes to lock onto hers, to find more interest in her than any fairytale. What would it take to get her attention?

“That girl…,” Ruby says.

“You know her?” Yang asks, leaning back on her forearm. Ruby doesn’t notice Yang’s obvious interest. 

“Not really,” Ruby says, Yang looking between the two of them, her smirk growing, “she saw what happened this morning, but left before I could say anything.”  
  
“Well, now’s your chance!” Both their chances. Ruby needs a friend and Yang… she just needs an excuse to speak to her. Right now. 

She jumps up and pulls Ruby by the arm toward the mystery girl. “Wait, what are you doing!” Ruby wails. 

“Helllloooo,” Yang calls, continuing even though Ruby yanks away and crosses her arms indignantly, “I believe you two may know each other.” 

At last, the book lowers, and her gaze raises to meet Yang’s. It’s the most withering, disinterested glare she’s ever received. But, Yang thinks, she’s still got a chance to turn it around. 

She glances between her and Ruby, “Aren't you that girl that exploded?” Immediately returning to her book as Ruby stumbles over an introduction. 

“So,” Yang says, cheerily, filling the silence, “what’s your name?” 

A sigh. A deep sigh. “Blake.” 

“Well Blake, I’m Yang,” she points to herself, thinking how nicely the name suits her, very cool and pretty, “Ruby’s older sister. I like your bow.” 

“Thanks,” Blake says, so clearly annoyed.

But Yang can’t quit now. “It goes great with your… pajamas.” She hears how ridiculous she sounds, trying so hard. 

“Right…”

Anyone else would give up here. “Nice night, don’t you think?” 

“Yes, it’s lovely,” Blake says wryly, probably about to lose it. “Almost as lovely as this book.” Yang just stares at her, smiling against the worst odds she’s ever faced. “That I will continue to read… as soon as you leave.”

A girl’s gotta know when to walk away. She looks to Ruby, hand on her hip. “Yeah, this girl’s a lost cause.” Ready to cut her loses and call it a night. Go back to her makeshift bed and watch something on her scroll, a funny animal video maybe, something to drown this interaction from her mind. 

“What’s it about?” Ruby asks. 

“Huh?”

“Your book. Does it have a name?”

And there it is. Ruby nailed it. The crease between Blake’s eyebrows smoothes out, surprised. Touched, almost, it hard to say though, she keeps any real feeling out of her voice. She doesn’t even smile, but Yang notices in the littlest of details; shoulders relaxing, her eyes softening, gold catching in the candlelight. Ruby asks questions and Blake actually anwsers and listens, as if no one has ever bothered to ask about her books. 

And then Ruby mentions stories inspiring her to be a huntress, like the heroes she grew up reading about. Yang doesn’t understand why, but it makes Blake retreat again. Suddenly there’s a vast ocean between them. 

“That’s very ambitious for a child,” Blake says, “unfortunately, the real world isn’t the same as a fairytale.” She almost sounds disappointed about it, if a little condescending. Yang thinks she’s not trying to be cruel, it’s clearly something she’s put thought into, so for her it’s just… how it is. 

Maybe someone who has believed in happy endings and watched it crumble to dust would say something like that. Someone who knows first hand what sort of darkness exists out there. 

Yang sees them now, the invisible walls she’s built around herself. You don’t come to Beacon without a reason; for Ruby it’s living out a fantasy of bringing justice and protecting everyone. It’s different for Yang and it has gotta be different for Blake too.

But those careful walls, the immediate reaction to push away, they don’t conceal to Yang her true nature. That she was or might still be somewhere deep down, a romantic. Just as idealistic and hopeful as Ruby. 

. . .

Ruby pulls the blankets over her head and groans. “Well, that was mortifying.”

“Aw come on,” Yang says, head finally hitting the pillow, “you kind of seemed to win her over at the end there. It’s not your fault she’s a little gloomy and antisocial.” 

Ruby sighs, pulling the blanket back. “I don’t know if she’s gloomy, she just… doesn’t have a real interest in making friends which is exactly what we have in common which is pretty sad considering that’s like the one thing you need to not have in common in order to get along and—” 

“Alright, alright. But still, we had to give it a shot. Never know unless you try, right?” She winces slightly at her use of ‘we’. 

Ruby doesn’t pick up on it. “I guess you’re right. Don’t wait on a thank you or anything.” 

Yang stretches her arms over her head. “That’s alright, I’m used to it, being the fun older sister is a thankless job.”

For the third time that night Yang gets a pillow thrown in her face. 

“More like a merciless older sister,” Ruby says, wearily. 

“‘Night, Ruby. Don’t worry too much, okay? I have a good feeling about all this. Tomorrow night we’ll have our own teams, be sleeping in our own dorms, and our future as huntresses will finally be set in motion.” 

“Not helping,” Ruby says, turning over and pulling the covers over her head. 

The ballroom grows quiet, unlike Yang’s mind. It takes another hour before her thoughts calm enough to fall asleep. She doesn’t bother picking up her scroll, happy to let her mind wander wherever it wants, imagining fingers running through pitch black hair, soft, delicate, tangling, tightening, grasping, pulling. Eyes like daggers softening, helplessly charmed. Soft lips, coy and teasing, reluctantly turning up at the corners, letting interest show. When she dreams, it’s all black and gold and endless skin. 

. . .

Blake silently blows out the candles and waits for them (now including the heiress) to take the cue to go back to their own sleeping bags. It’s obvious that reading is not in the cards. 

The room finally quiets and darkens. She’s usually able to fall asleep quickly, but not tonight. Maybe it’s the new place, the lack of privacy, or being denied the comfort of reading before bed. As much as she wants to deny it, those aren’t the real reasons she can’t sleep. 

That girl - Yang - is attractive. Wild blonde hair, stunning lilac eyes, an infectious energy. As annoyed as she was to get interrupted, and it was, truly annoying, Blake has never met anyone like Yang, with an aura bright enough to chase the shadows away.

Something about her makes Blake want to dream like she hasn’t in years and forget all the reasons why she stopped in the first place. She makes Blake want to be the reason she shows off that perfect, cocky as hell, half smile. 

She lets her mind drift and dream before the nightmares come and take their rightful place. She’s been so on edge about tomorrow, getting placed on a team, not having any control of who’s partner she becomes. But maybe…maybe being stuck with a partner for the next several years won’t be so bad if it’s someone like Yang. 

That is, if she can keep up.


End file.
